


Dinner Date

by Bearslayer



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: A not-so-murdery AU, Eve "It's so weird how turned on I get when she's around haha weIRD" Polastri, F/F, Flirting, Friends to Married to Lovers, Gals being pals, In love but unaware, Some... light petting but no smut, fake married, mentions of divorce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:30:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25010143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bearslayer/pseuds/Bearslayer
Summary: When Eve, a clinical psychologist at the Royal London Hospital, receives a text from her ex husband, she goes to her best friend, the lovable pathologist Oksana for help.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 43
Kudos: 350





	Dinner Date

**Author's Note:**

> This comes from a prompt received on Tumblr. The prompts were 'Fake Married' and 'I Didn't Mean To Turn You On'.
> 
> It got a little out of hand. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :D

“So let me get this straight... you're not.” Oksana said, corners of her lips quirking in amusement at her own joke. Eve rolled her eyes.

“Are you gonna help me or not? I don't have time for this.” Eve asked, squeezing the clipboard to her chest.

“You could have asked me out in a more romantic setting, you know.” The blonde grinned, leaning on the stainless steel table.

They stood in the sterile, drab room in the basement of the Royal London Hospital. Behind Oksana was a wall of stainless steel doors, all precisely labeled and clean. Each label bore the information of the corpse within it. Eve hated it down in the morgue, but it was where one found pathologists in a hospital; especially Oksana, who never really seemed to leave the hospital. There had once been a rather stupid rumor that she was actually a ghost who had been haunting the hospital since the 1800s. Eve assumed that Oksana spread it herself to keep people away from her while she worked.

Eve knew better; she knew Oksana was alive and well, and was one of her best friends. They had met in the hospital when Oksana first started several years before. She, herself, had worked there for nearly ten years as a clinical psychologist. It was a mentally taxing, high stress job that had destroyed any semblance of a personal life she once had. She loved it. She loved the meetings, the research, the sessions with patients, she even loved the paperwork. She would take a nice pile of paperwork and make an afternoon out of it. In fact, paperwork was what had initially gotten the pair to bond; Eve had tucked herself away in the basement on Oksana's first day to do some physical paperwork. Everything was done on computer, but nothing could compare to the feeling of pen on paper. She would write her notes out on paper, then transcribe them as needed.

She had found Oksana staring at her, because she was sitting on a gurney that she needed to use to assist the pathologist she was training under.

“You have beautiful hair.” Oksana had said, throwing her entirely out of her groove.

As it turned out, Oksana was an expert at disarming Eve mentally. She didn't know what it was about her – maybe the Russian accent, or maybe those big eyes. They were catlike; wide, but alert, and yet at the same time, a bit lost. She was drawn to her, and they became fast friends. Now, three years later, she couldn't picture her life without the strange pathologist in it, and pleaded for her help.

“I'm not asking you out. I'm asking a favor.” Eve sighed, putting her head down on Oksana's outstretched hands. “Please.”

“Aw, poor baby. Man, I feel... powerful over you right now.” Oksana grinned, leaning down and resting her face against Eve's hair. She sighed into it; she tended to play with Eve's hair as often as she could, which sometimes involved her burying her face in it. If anyone else tried it, it would bother her immensely. With Oksana, it was endearing. Sometimes she would come to Eve's house on the rare shared day off and they'd cuddle up on her couch, watching trashy television shows and drinking cheap wine.

“Oksanaaa. **Please** just... It's one night, then I'll never ask you for anything else.” She begged.

“Why don't you just tell him to fuck off back to Poland? Why is he coming back around? You're divorced. You've been divorced what, seven years now?” Oksana did not seem to understand the situation entirely.

Niko was back in Britain. He was back, and wanted to “reconnect” with Eve. Niko was a large part of that personal life she had dropped in the garbage years before; they had been married when she was still in University, and didn't survive past three years of practice in the hospital. Niko felt neglected by her, which was to say that he felt threatened by her success and love of her career. He wanted her to pursue something less time consuming. He wanted her to be a better wife to him, and she couldn't give him that. Physical intimacy was boring when it happened, and when it didn't, he complained about it. He complained constantly, about everything. The relationship was doomed to failure when she became a career woman, and he asked to be separated. Separation became Niko running off to Poland, became divorce papers in the mail, became no contact for years.

And then, he had sent her a text out of the blue. She had no idea how he got her new number, nor did she care to find out. For the sake of being cordial she had answered, and the conversation was pleasant enough until Niko had dropped the following bomb;

// _I'm moving back to London. I'd love to see you again, Eve... I've done a lot of growing up since we last saw each other, and if it's okay with you I'd like to take you out.//_

Eve had felt sick at the idea of seeing him, but had been possessed by the demon of cordiality and had responded.

// **Niko... I'd be okay with seeing you again, but please understand that nothing is going to happen between us. I've moved on.** //

// _Moved on? Have a boyfriend, than?//_

// **I remarried.** //

She had no idea what had made her tell such a tremendous lie when the fact was that she hadn't even bothered dating anyone in ages. She didn't _need_ anyone in her life. She had her few friends, her house, and if she needed to be cuddled she had her chicken, who she was convinced had the soul of a very accomodating cat trapped inside of her. She had Oksana, who had a penchant for turning up right when she felt lonely. She had given her a key to the house two years ago. She lived closer to the hospital, so she was more than happy to have her stay over when she needed. Niko had responded a few minutes later – she assumed he needed those minutes to rage at the fact that she would remarry and not wait around forever for him to come back.

// _Remarried? Well, I'm happy for you. But... I would still like to see you, regardless. I think it'll help me move on, Eve. He can come too._ //

// **Fine. I'll bring** _ **her**_ **with me.** //

// _Her? Oh, well, good for you then – I'll be glad to meet her. How about Friday? You can come to my apartment, both of you... Or I could come to the house..._ //

// **Or we can just go to a restaurant and get this over with in public.** //

Niko had agreed, they had set a time, and Eve had practically thrown her phone in panic. She had no idea what she had been thinking, but there was at least a bit of logic behind it. She didn't have any male friends that she could rope into this, and even if she did... Niko was a jealous man and couldn't stand the idea that he'd have to compete with a man. Saying it was a woman she had married – she had female friends, and Niko would assume there was no getting into that. He was as vanilla as a monk convention, so he would be too busy trying to figure out how things worked between them to try and steal her away. Not that she could be stolen away.

Not like she and Oksana were _actually_ married or anything.

“Yes, you're the all powerful Oksana. You're holding my sanity in your hands.” Eve mumbled, deadpan as she spoke literally into her hands, which Oksana had turned so that her palms faced up.

“And your pretty face.” Oksana giggled, thumbs sliding over her cheeks.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Eve said; she and Oksana tended to flirt now and then. It always made Oksana laugh.

“Promise?” Oksana purred. Literally purred. Eve smiled into her hands.

“If you do this for me? If you convince my ex husband I wasn't put on this planet to be his? Absolutely.” She sighed, closing her eyes.

“Can I be mean to him?” Oksana asked, face still pressed into her hair. She spoke almost directly into her ear. If Eve got drunk enough she could admit that the accent really, really worked for her and that every time Oksana whispered something to her she felt a cascade of tingles down her spine. But only when she was drunk.

“Is there literally any way I can stop you from being mean?” Eve asked.

“You can ask me nicely. Oksana, be nice to my idiot ex mustache who ran away because I'm a successful, sexy woman! Say that.” Oksana offered, helpfully.

“... I'm not saying that.” Eve had to laugh, gently beginning to lift her head. Oksana lifted up as well, head tilting as she looked to her.

“Well, no guarantees that I'll be nice, then.” She brought a hand out to put Eve's hair back in place. She always wore it down around her.

“Maybe it'll go quicker that way. So are you agreeing to help me?” Eve gave a faint pout, which made Oksana roll her eyes.

“Yes, yes, I'll go and have dinner. I'll be your stunning, witty, aloof wife who is better than Mustache man in every possible way. Maybe he'll run back to Poland.” Oksana smirked; she had no deficit of confidence, that much was for sure.

“We can hope. So Friday at eight?” Eve smiled.

“Friday at eight. Should I do a dress or suit?” Oksana leaned back on the table, resting her chin on her fist and looking up at her, smiling.

“I have no idea. Why don't you just bring some stuff over to my place and we'll figure it out before we leave?” Eve offered. She was bad at clothing; Oksana was very much not.

“Oh, yeah, much better – that way I can pick something out for you, too. Make him wish he'd never been such a shit to you.” Oksana grinned.

“You're going to pose as my wife **and** dress me? I might have to actually marry you.” Eve teased.

“Well, this should have happened ages ago if that's all it takes to get you to propose.” Oksana returned, then stood and flicked her hands. “Now get out of here, it's time for me to crack open a cold one.”

“I **really** wish you wouldn't refer to autopsies that way.”

* * *

“How about this?” Oksana called as she came out of the room, giving a little spin and tugging at the middle of the double breasted green/blue blazer she wore to call attention to it. Beneath it she wore a silky white tank top, and her trousers were green and bore a stripe down the sides to connect them to the outfit up top. Eve's mouth opened and then closed. The way she dressed outside of work never failed to knock the words out of her mouth and to derail her trains of thought.

“Going for a more butch look, huh.” Eve offered weakly.

“Because I want you to wear a dress.” Oksana told her. She was always trying to get her into more dresses; tonight's insistence was no different, except that she was now willing to do so. How could she say no to her while she wore such a powerful look?

“Do I have to?” She had to put up **some** sort of protest. Bantering with Oksana was the only thing that made her feel normal some days.

“Yes. You look amazing in dresses.” Oksana said, putting a hand on her hip.

“I look awkward. I don't have the tits for most dresses.” Eve observed, looking down at herself. She was still in scrubs and a lab coat, having waited for Oksana to make her decision on what she would wear. She'd gone through three outfits already, each more stunning than the last. Her eyes went wide as Oksana closed the distance between them and brought her hands up, placing them at the base of Eve's breasts, thumb and index finger framing both. The sudden closeness forced Eve to look up at her, their bodies less than a foot away from one another.

“Your tits are perfect. Now...” Oksana said, spinning on her heel again. “I'm wearing this, and I have a dress for you.”

“You have a dress for me?” Eve stammered in return. She didn't quite grasp why the intimate, abrupt, and quite frankly rude action by Oksana had made her cheeks burn so hot.

“Of course. Do you think I was going to have you choose from your wardrobe of black, gray, black, your scrubs, and slightly less black?” Oksana laughed. The assessment wasn't untrue; she shied away from color, opting for comfort and the ability to blend in. The only pops of color were ones that Oksana had bought her at random, all of which were too expensive for Eve to justify wearing when it wasn't for her.

“Did you at least get me something with trousers so I'd have that option, or did you always plan to put me in a dress?” Eve forced an amused look on to her face to distract herself from the feelings that twittered in her chest. Oksana was her _friend_ , and she needed to remember that. Oksana was, as put it herself, 'A big ol' lesbian', and had been single since right after they met, but that didn't mean that she was after Eve for anything. That would be ridiculous. Wouldn't it?

“I brought trousers but it looks like I forgot a top to go with them. Oh darn.” Oksana snapped her fingers, grinning as she went to the suitcase she had brought. It wasn't a small one, either. Full sized, like she was planning a trip out of the country.

“Please tell me you didn't buy me a bunch of stuff again.”

“Okay – I didn't buy you a bunch of stuff again.” Oksana repeated as she pulled out a dress. The fabric alone made Eve nervous. It looked expensive and soft. It was long and a light blue with multicolored flowers printed throughout, one that would compliment the outfit Oksana wore. It was pretty; it looked like springtime in verdant fields. It was far too pretty for her, someone who was used to being purposely frumpy because she despised the idea of being seen as attractive to strangers. She knew, from her own studies and working in the field she worked in, that she did it out of a fear of being typecast by others; that the bias that so many people held was that beauty and intelligence could not coexist in equal parts. And besides, going to great lengths to tend to her appearance might intimidate her more sensitive patients.

“I have others, if you don't like this one.” Oksana mumbled.

“No, no... It's beautiful and I love it. But I think it's... It's too pretty.” Eve stammered, looking up at her.

“You're beautiful, Eve. I don't know why you think so little of yourself, but if I find out it's because of him I'm really, seriously going to make him wish he never left Poland.” Oksana watched her, brows furrowed. She always got offended when Eve downplayed any part of her personality. She seemed to love every part of it except the part that she reserved for self-loathing.

“No assaulting my ex. This is so he can move on with his life and get over me. Because apparently not speaking to me for almost seven years wasn't enough for him. He needs to try to make some grand gesture of moving back and swearing he's grown up now.” Eve muttered bitterly.

“You're too kind. He made you miserable and then ran away when you finally stood up for yourself. He doesn't deserve to see you again, but I'm glad you're bringing me along so I can make sure he doesn't try to rope you back in. And I will be happy to play your wife. Your hot, younger wife who you met at work, who respects you more than any man could. And who's also way better in bed.” Oksana declared.

“Now you're just pushing your luck. No sex talk at dinner.” Eve pointed at her, laughing when Oksana grinned and wiggled her brows.

“What? You told me what he was like. Mister Missionary who never even went down on you.” She replied.

Eve blushed harder, snatching the dress away.

“No sex talk at dinner, or I'll wear my scrubs.” She hissed, moving towards the bathroom to change.

Normally, she would just change right there. But the night was far from normal, and she needed the distance to stop her heart from racing. She blamed it on the anxiety of seeing Niko after so many years for her body being so out of control. It was easier to blame it on a broken heart that was still broken than one that had been repaired in such an unexpected way.

* * *

“No, Eve. It's good to make him wait. It shows him that he's not a thought in your mind anymore. Give him a few more minutes to stew in it. You're doing this because you're kind, not because you want to see him.” Oksana locked the doors before Eve could exit the car, shaking her head. When they drove past the restaurant they could see him through the curtains, sitting by himself at a table. It was terribly awkward and made Eve's throat feel tight.

“Okay. I really don't want to see him. Is it too late to blow him off?” Eve sank into the seat a little further, closing her eyes.

“Of course not. You can text him and tell him to jump off a bridge, as far as I'm concerned. But you _shouldn't_ because I know you, and I know you'll hate yourself if you do it. You need... what do you Westerners say – you need closure.” Oksana did that sometimes – pretended she hadn't been in England long enough to know a term. She didn't even speak Russian anymore unless it was to have heated, loud conversations over the phone with a relative that she refused to discuss.

“Russians like closure too.” Eve returned weakly.

“Russians like to parade their beautiful women around and rub them in the faces of the people who have wronged them. And I want to do that.” Oksana said, shaking her head again.

“You really want to pretend I'm your wife and lord it over him? You acted like it was a chore when I first asked.” Eve smirked, looking to her.

“I didn't act like it was a chore. I just wanted to make you work for it.” She raised a brow. Eve rolled her eyes and forced herself to look away. Oksana looked absolutely devastating. She had little makeup on, and her hair was bound back into a tight ponytail. Her eyes, always so intense when gazing at others, were warm and amused whenever they stopped on Eve. She looked like she could kill at a moment's notice and get away with it easily. Eve looked very much the opposite; she looked delicate. Oksana had done her makeup and laid her hair out all pretty and nice... She was definitely making a statement with their looks. What that statement was, she wasn't sure – but the message was for Niko, not her. She had found them rings to complete the illusion; Oksana wore hers on a thin platinum chain around her neck, Eve's on the appropriate finger.

Oksana's hand went to hers on the center console.

“Don't be nervous. If he's an asshole and you want to leave, we can leave. If you want him jealous, I can make him jealous. If you want me to be nice, that's okay too. Whatever you want, okay?” Oksana's fingers found the spaces between hers. Some of the tension melted from her shoulders; she didn't realize how stiff they had gotten.

“Be nice, for now.” Eve nodded a little, spreading her fingers to let Oksana's hand encompass hers more completely.

“Okay. I'll be nice. I'll be me, though, so if he can't handle nice Oksana that isn't my fault.” She warned. Eve laughed.

When they went into the restaurant, Niko stood straight up to greet them. He had been watching the door from his seat, and Eve couldn't help but wonder how long he had actually been waiting. She hoped it was a long time. They were about twenty minutes late, and Eve had a text from him that she hadn't looked at yet. She didn't want to. She wanted him to have been stewing, like Oksana had suggested. Her presence around him was a kindness extended, nothing more. She gave him a smile, though, as she approached hand in hand with her “wife”, looking him over. Over the years he had lost weight in some areas, gained in others; he had gone from somewhat slim and built to full on dad bod, clothes ill-fitted to his form. The mustache had only grown in voracity, consuming more and more of his face. It was actually sort of nice. Eve didn't hate it.

“Niko! Still won't cut your hair, huh?” Eve said, awkward.

“Eve... Finally grew yours out.” Niko replied, hand shoved in his pockets. Awkward. So awkward.

“Yeah... So, um. This is my wife, Oksana.” Eve offered, looking to her. She smirked, and raised the hand that held Eve's, waving two fingers.

“Hello Niko. She's told me a lot about you.” Oksana said. Was she deliberately thickening her accent? Was that some weird Russian power-play?

“All good, I hope.” Niko joked lamely, offering a hand out to her to shake. Oksana looked at it, then moved to pull Eve's chair out.

“No.”

“... I suppose that's fair.” Niko went pale at her blunt, easy response, and Eve couldn't help but give a little smirk, moving to sit.

“Why thank you.” Eve smiled up to her, leaning back in the seat as it was pushed in. Oksana sat beside her, making a show of pulling the chair closer to her, so they could both look across at Niko like a child about to be berated by his parents.

“Of course, baby.” Oksana smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek as she settled into her seat, leaning back and placing a hand on her thigh.

Eve had to do everything in her power to squash her outward reactions. The gloss from Oksana's lips left a sheen where they had touched her skin. And Oksana's hand was on her thigh. Her _thigh_. _Oksana's hand was on her thigh._ She swallowed the inexplicable lump in her throat and drew in a soft, slow breath to compose herself. It didn't work. She would remain uncomposed, but she could at least have some control over the situation. She brought a hand down to rest on hers, and smiled to Niko.

“So. What brought you back to London?” Eve asked, looking to him. Niko sat, finally, offering a smile. He was horribly uncomfortable, practically radiating nervous energy across the table.

“I uh – I finished my Masters and accepted a job teaching at Queen Mary. I had thought about taking a job in Poland but... I wanted to come back to England. It's home.” Niko said, smiling. Oksana, surprisingly, avoided comment.

“Oh? Still maths? Congratulations.” Eve offered, squeezing Oksana's hand lightly.

“Yes, thank you. And you're still at-”

“Royal London, yes. Ten years now – well, a little over ten.” Eve nodded.

“It's where we met.” Oksana smirked a little.

“Oh, really? Are you a, um – a psychologist as well?” Niko asked. He was feigning interest and obviously intimidated by her. He wouldn't meet Oksana's eyes.

“No. I am a pathologist. Autopsies, things like that. Determining causes of death in patients, mostly.” Oksana waved her free hand dismissively.

“Yes, I know what a pathologist is.” Niko muttered.

“Niko!” Eve stared at him from across the table. “Don't be rude.”

“It's just – awfully grim, isn't it?” Niko shook his head, folding his arms defensively. Closed body language. He was on the defensive.

“The alternative is that families never have any answer to how their loved ones died, or that the surgeons who fuck up in surgery are never held accountable for their mistakes.” Oksana wasn't offended, but gave an easy defense to her profession. The next statement made Eve's cheeks burn once again, “... It also makes me very, _very_ good with my hands.”

“ _Oksana._ ” Eve mumbled, giving her a toothless glare.

“What? I'm good with my hands because of my job, you're good with your mouth and talking because of yours... Ohh, I see. You made it about that, didn't you? This woman, goodness. English isn't my first language, sometimes she thinks I mean something perverted.” Oksana smirked.

“Jesus.” Niko muttered; he was blushing as well.

Eve leaned in to Oksana's ear to scold her without Niko overhearing, “What did I tell you about that? Behave yourself!”

Oksana leaned in once she pulled away to whisper in return, lips nearly pressed to her earlobe, “Sorry baby.”

This was a disaster. It was a disaster, a bad idea, a catastrophe, and Eve wanted to scream. Of course she couldn't really have expected Oksana to behave. Why would she? When did she ever? She hated Niko and Eve had given her every reason to. She had done nothing but bash him around her whenever the topic came up, and as her best friend Oksana was basically obligated to hate any ex she had. She also knew exactly what buttons to push to fluster Eve. She probably didn't do it on purpose, just finding it funny the way she reacted. Oksana had called her stammering and general inability to function cute before. She couldn't know that sometimes the flustering wasn't irritation or embarrassment. She couldn't know that sometimes, _sometimes_ , her teasing had a very profound effect. A very physical one.

“So – you met at the hospital, then. I'm sorry I was rude, Oksana. This is just new to me.” Niko said, trying to save face.

“We did... At the time I had a girlfriend, but when I met Eve...” Oksana gave a soft sigh, glancing to her with adoration in her eyes, “I saw this hair and couldn't think of anything else. She was all curled into herself with a pile of notebooks and all that hair. I fell in love so fast that I could barely string together a sentence. So I just told her her hair was pretty. It was really lame.”

“It wasn't lame, it was sweet. Weird, but I like weird.” Eve smiled, looking to her. The memory was a fond one, even if Oksana was spinning it as something more serious for dramatic effect. It seemed to work, though. Niko actually smiled. Oksana was a good actress when it came down to it.

“It is excellent hair.” Niko agreed, chuckling as he took a drink of his water.

“I don't know much about you, Mustache, but we both have good taste in women.” Oksana smirked. “After that first time we met I ended up breaking off things with the girl I was with, Nadia. It wasn't fair to stay with her if I was in love with someone else so quickly. Eve and I started spending more and more time together... The first time I got the courage to ask her out was months after we met. We're always both so tired from working all the time that we just went for a walk in the park and sat by the water when the sun was going down. We didn't even really talk much. She just... put her head on my shoulder and we watched the water and the sky. That was when I knew I couldn't ever be with anybody else.”

Eve watched as she spoke, remembering the evening in question. They had wandered around the park, hip to hip, talking about nothing in particular. It was autumn, and Oksana had given her the coat she wore when the layers Eve had worn proved to be not thick enough. She had told her not to worry, that she thrived in the cold. They had been thrilled to find the bench by the water unoccupied, because it was a rare clear night and it was the best spot in the place to watch the water. It had been so nice to just sit with someone, to have that sort of intimacy she had been lacking since her divorce – but had she been seeing it in a different light than Oksana? Did she really have some underlying feelings for her?

No, of course not. Eve closed her eyes and smiled. They were best friends. She wouldn't cross that line, and hadn't. They loved each other, but it wasn't like that. It was the way that best friends loved each other. It wasn't romantic... was it?

“Well... I'm glad you two found each other, then. It sounds like you're very happy together. Certainly more sharply dressed than Eve ever was with me.” Niko smiled a sad sort of smile, catching her eye as she opened them.

“Oh, this was her idea. I wanted to wear a sweater. She likes coordinating outfits and dressing me up.” Eve laughed, looking down at herself.

“Who can blame me? You're a knockout. If I wasn't so jealous I would say you should do modeling, but then I'd have to deal with other people looking at you.” Oksana scoffed, looking to her.

“Oh, stop it. You can't look the way **you** look right now and say you're the one who should be jealous. Ridiculous.” Eve waved a hand, squeezing the one on her thigh. The hand on her thigh that she was suddenly aware of again, of which the fingers had begun to gently tap and stroke just a little. Just enough that it made her hips shift. On an impulse, she removed her hand from Oksana's and mirrored it on her, fingers resting on her thigh over her trousers. They were velvety, and she could feel beneath them how muscular Oksana's thighs were. She'd seen them before, but feeling them was... different.

The waiter arrived to take their orders, which Eve and Oksana both gave in a bit of a haze. When he left, they found that Niko was still staring at them, brows furrowed.

“Niko. What's the look for?” Eve asked, raising a brow.

“We were married for four years and I never remember you saying anything about being into women.” Niko said. Eve rolled her eyes.

“Well, for starters... We were together for five, Niko. And if that's any indicator of how invested you were in the relationship, it's no wonder you ignored all the times I would mention my lack of desire to label my sexuality.” Eve said. The hand on Oksana's leg was now mimicking her motions, fingertips making little swirls. She didn't realize she was doing it until the suited woman scooted in a little closer, so that the outer curves of their hips met, seats against each other. Oksana removed her hand and put it around Eve's shoulders, tilting her head at Niko.

“Why did you agree to meet up after Eve told you she had remarried, Niko? Did you think you might, I don't know. Lure her away from me somehow?” Oksana asked – she stared right back at him. Through him, even. Her entire demeanor began to shift.

“What? Of course I didn't. I just...” Niko shook his head.

“You just what? Wanted to see if she was secretly miserable without you in her life? Why even come back to England in the first place?” Oksana leaned in. Eve's hand squeezed her thigh lightly, frowning at her sudden intensity.

“I came back for a job, Oksana.” Niko snapped back with as much bite as he could muster. It wasn't much.

“There's no shortage of maths teachers in England. You looked for a job here. You looked for a job here because you spent your last however many year slowly realizing how much you fucked up when you hurt her, looking for an excuse to come back and try to prove you're a better man now. But you're not. You're sitting across from her here, getting the amount of years you had together wrong, being offended that she could love someone other than you, making this whole thing about you and your feelings. _You_ were the one who ran away to Poland because you couldn't handle her life not revolving around you. She was kind enough to meet with you and you insult her by acting how you are. By looking like you do, when she looks like this. You, with that stupid fucking mustache. Run a comb through it every now and then. You don't deserve somebody like Eve. You're nothing.” Oksana spoke with anger that she barely held back, through gritted teeth, squeezing Eve's shoulder lightly.

Something absurd was happening within Eve. The same tingles that she had felt before, but more intense. That physical effect that Oksana sometimes brought out in her, the one where her breath hitched and her heart began to race, but tinged with something heavier. Her brain was at a loss. She was aroused. Watching Oksana give her ex husband a verbal dressing down had turned her on. The precision with which she attacked his character, his clothing, and his decision making, coupled with the way she looked and the tightness of her thigh beneath Eve's fingers had had a secondary consequence, and Eve was dumbstruck. She stared at Oksana, unable to hear the rest of the conversation. She watched her expression morph from anger to triumph, vaguely aware of a slamming noise.

When Oksana turned her head to look at her once again, she bit her lip.

“... I tried to be nice.” She said, her tone apologetic.

“You did good.” Eve's brows raised a little, and she stared at her still.

“I don't think he'll try to talk to you again, at least.” Oksana offered.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” Eve could feel her cheeks going red, and was **very** aware of both how hard her nipples were and of a growing wetness between her legs.

“Are you okay?” Oksana asked, pulling her arm away.

“I just need a minute.”

She fled before another word could be spoken, and was in the bathroom within a moment's time. It was a single occupancy bathroom, which she was beyond thankful for. She closed and locked the door behind her, heaving a sigh and leaning against it, hand resting over her quickfire heart. It was pounding against her ribcage, and Eve was both confused and more sure of something than she ever had been before. She didn't even have to drink to acknowledge it this time. She wanted Oksana. She wanted her _badly._ Moving to the sink, she ran the water cold and ducked her head down to splash her heated cheeks. She spent a few minutes there, trying to calm herself, but she kept going over the conversation in her mind.

The way Oksana had spoken about their first meeting.

The way she had broken up with her girlfriend right away after.

The park.

All the nights they spent cuddled up together on the couch.

All the compliments, the gifts, all the flirting, all the hand holding and tenderness...

Did Oksana love her?

Did _she_ love Oksana?

A knock on the door broke her from her thoughts.

“Eve? Are you okay? Can I come in?”

She took a deep breath, looking at the door, weighing her options. She could ignore her and Oksana would keep knocking. She could tell her no and convince her something was very wrong. Or she could... Eve then found herself walking to the door and unlocking it, stepping back to allow her in before she even registered fully that she had done so. Oksana slipped in, closing and locking it behind her.

“Eve?” She asked, moving to touch her face gently. It was still wet.

“I um... I was just feeling a little... I just needed to splash some water on my face.” She explained. Her words were rewarded with the confident little smirk she had seen countless times before. The one that always bowled her over.

“I didn't mean to turn you on.” She said – and something snapped in Eve.

She moved again, crowding into Oksana, who backed into the door and gave a little squeak as Eve raised up to kiss her hard. She pinned her between the door and her own body, hands going to her shoulders, a knee pushing between her legs. She felt Oksana's shoulders go slightly slack, saw her eyes slipping shut just as she was closing her own. The kiss was intense, sloppy, and white-hot. Years of unspent sexual energy boiled inside of her, caused her to press into her as hard as she could just for the feel of her. She gasped as Oksana's hands slid from her arms down to her hips, coming to rest on her ass and gripping her firmly, pulling her smaller body into the thigh that had slotted between hers. She pressed herself down against her thigh, whimpering at the feeling, whimpering with longing to be touched, to be fucked, for Oksana to do something, anything to relieve the pressure building inside of her.

She gasped as the hands moved to grip her wrists, and yelped as Oksana flipped their positions. She leaned away from her a little, looking into her eyes.

“Is this what you want, Eve?” She asked, voice thick, so heavy with lust.

“... Do you love me?” Eve asked, looking up at her.

“I always have.” Oksana admitted, releasing her wrists to bring her hands to her cheeks instead, brushing her fingertips over her the flushed skin.

“Why... why didn't you ever say anything?” Eve asked, confused. Oksana smiled, shaking her head and leaning in to give her another all too gentle kiss.

“I did. I tell you I love you all the time. I was just waiting for you to figure out what way I meant it... I figured you had to understand that on your own.” She explained.

“If you had just told me we could have – we could have had so much time together already.” Eve didn't understand, but Oksana knew her better than she knew herself.

“If I had told you years ago, I think you would have shut down. It wouldn't have been like this, Eve, and you know it. Now it's your turn.” Oksana said.

“My turn?”

“To tell me. Do you love me, Eve?” Oksana asked, laying another gentle kiss to her lips, then her chin.

“I – I do. I love you. I – I don't understand why I didn't realize it before, I'm an idiot.” Eve closed her eyes.

“We're both idiots.” Oksana pulled away, taking Eve with her, wrapping her arms around her and laying her face against her hair.

“We really are. Jesus Christ, I'm a mess. I... I really – I'm really turned on. It's bad.” She mumbled weakly, wrapping her arms around Oksana's waist. She squeezed her tight, the contact comforting.

“Me too... but.”

“But?”

“But I'm not having our first time be in a bathroom before we have our first real date.” Oksana told her.

“Oh, suddenly you're a romantic?” Eve laughed.

“It's not sudden. I've always been one, I've just been waiting for you to let me be romantic. And the way I figure it... We're in a fancy restaurant, and we already ordered. We both look amazing, and we both **know** the date's gonna end well because, romantic or not, I'm a bit of a slut so I definitely fuck on the first date.” Oksana smirked.

“So I have to wine and dine you first?” Eve smirked, resting her head against hers in turn.

“Mhm. Then we can go back to your apartment...” Oksana said.

“And we'll be really, really slutty.” Eve confirmed.

“Yes. I wasn't lying when I said I'm good with my hands, you know. I'm also good with everything else...” Oksana purred into her ear again, causing Eve to whine.

“We aren't having this date if you keep talking like that. Come on.” Eve pulled away, taking her hand.

“You drive a hard bargain, Missus Astankova.” Oksana teased, running her thumb along the rings she wore.

“Oh, so I'm taking your name, am I?” Eve grinned, unlocking and opening the door.

“Duh.” Oksana rolled her eyes, leading her out into the dining area and to their first real, official date.


End file.
